


blood oath

by raggirare



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Criminal AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-11
Updated: 2016-12-11
Packaged: 2018-09-07 21:07:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8816272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raggirare/pseuds/raggirare
Summary: The irony hits Taketora, at times, that his only freedom is with his captor.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Happy belated birthday to my favourite piece of shit, Kot.
> 
> For more info on CAU, check out [this tag](http://idaida.tumblr.com/tagged/cau/chrono) (it's beautiful bless Kot and Ida for this world).

He shouldn’t be here. He didn’t belong in this part of town. Territories were a serious matter, and his face was far from unknown in this kind of world, and even to innocent eyes he was far from inconspicuous. He was never one for hoods, bleach blond mohawk always on display, and even bowing his head would never be enough to hide the patch covering his left eye no matter how dark it was, and even if he wasn’t the tallest, he was broad enough to make up for it. Muscles accentuated by the tailoring of his suit made slouching in on himself a wasted effort.

A chill ran down his spine, goosebumps prickling along his skin. He cast a glance around the empty streets, but he knew better. There were eyes there, in the shadows, but no hands reaching out to stop him.

( _Expected_ ; he’d been invited.)

But even an invitation didn’t make it any less daunting to step into the snake den. The bouncer guarding the door barely glanced in his direction as he bypassed the line of waiting customers, and another just inside the door gave him nothing more than a nod before leading him away from the noisy club front and into the quieter back rooms, but even the quiet halls weren’t enough to ease his mind. Relief only came when he was stopped outside of a door and left alone to open it.

“Kitten.”

A wave rolled over Taketora, pulling the tension from his shoulders and allowing him to stand up straight. He stepped into the small room, knocking the door closed behind him, and approached the far end of the couches lining three walls of the space. He didn’t say anything, though, even when he knelt a knee one of the cushions and a hand combed fingers into his hair and his one good eye slipped closed. Comfort washed through him and coaxed him to lay down, head coming to rest on the other man’s lap. 

“Tired?” The velveteen tone was a gentle harmony in his ears, gentle enough to drift him back to darkness punctuated by loneliness and eased only by that tone and that touch. Months of pain and suffering only made bearable by the warmth that visited him every night to nurse his wounds and bring him food and drink. A kindness that didn’t match the face he saw when he opened his one good eye.

He nodded.

“Rest. You’re safe here, kitten. Didn’t I promise I would always keep you safe?”

For a long moment. Taketora said nothing and instead simply watched the other man’s face. Daishou was a cold man, full of selfish wants and immoral desires. His actions were done purely to benefit himself, no matter who or what got in his way, and ‘snake’ was more of an understatement than an exaggeration. Tora knew first hand how far a man like him would go with memories of blinding pain and hot blood staining his skin. 

Taketora lifted a hand and pressed it to the other man’s cheek, rubbing his thumb over a pronounced cheekbone.

Daishou wasn’t with him today. Suguru was.

Suguru, who took all the pain away; who came to him in the darkness and apologised for every drop of blood spilt and every wound cut open and gave him back some sort of dignity. Suguru, whose warm tone kept nightmares at bay and comforted him when even his own men behind guarded words. Suguru, who tilted his head into Taketora’s hands and watched him with eyes for him and him alone, soft and warm and welcoming and Tora could feel himself sinking ever further into them.

“Lay down with me?” Tora asked, guiding the other man down with him with the hand still on Suguru’s cheek. The seats of the sofa were more than wide enough to accommodate them both lying on their sides, Tora shifting up just enough to tuck his face in against Suguru’s chest, arm slipping over the snake’s side. “They’ll have found him by now.”

A hand found it’s way into the bleached strands of Taketora’s hair, Suguru using the other arm to prop himself up. “Did you make a mess?” He asked, tone still so warm even as amusement slipped in. “They might still be cleaning him off the sidewalk when you get back.”

“You know I only do clean,” Tora mumbled against Suguru’s chest, not bothering to move his head away. His eyes closed and he let his body relax into the hold and into the plushness of the couch; let his mind ease and abandon the memories of the night. “He wasn’t worth the time it would take to make it messy.”

“You have blood on your shirt.”

“You have blood on your hands.”

A hiss of a chuckle escaped Suguru and he let his hand come to rest at the back of the gunman’s neck. “Alright, kitten, you win,” he conceded. “Now rest. You won’t be able to once you go back.”

“What if I don’t want to go back?” Taketora made to lift his head but the hand on the neck stopped him. It kept his head in place, gentle yet commanding, 

“Now, now, _kitten_ ,” The voice dropped to a whisper, the pet name a purr. Lips brushed against the bleached mohawk as Daishou tilted his head forward. “You _have_ to, remember? I’ll still call so my kitten won’t miss me, but you have to go back.” The fingers returned to the blond strands, coming through in a rhythmic motion. “Now rest, kitten. _Rest_.”

A tone to be obeyed, conjured from warm memories that pulled him through hell, Tora swallowed down a witty comeback and let exhaustion take him instead.


End file.
